


Counting Stars

by boss



Category: Girls Day, VIXX
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:43:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boss/pseuds/boss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon. </p><p>“Hyung,” Sanghyuk calls. “Where are you going?”</p><p>“’The store,’” Jaehwan winks. “Look at the way he’s dressed.”</p><p>Sanghyuk frowns, picking at an acne mark on his chin. “I don’t get it--”</p><p>“Taekwoon hyung has a date,” says Hongbin. “It’s the blazer. He always wears blazers on dates, maknae.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, like the OneRepublic song. Enjoy! ♡

_I’ll see you tonight?_  
  
 _Yes. I’ll pick you up?_  
  
 _Okay ^^ See you then!_  
  
“Why are you smiling like that?” Jaehwan frowns and tries to look over Taekwoon’s shoulder to see his phone screen. Too bad it’s only his home screen, all group picture background and boring colorful icons. Jaehwan squints from the phone up to Taekwoon’s face.  
  
“Get back to work,” Taekwoon pushes him aside. He dumps his phone into the backpack resting against the wall and turns the sound system back on.  
  
Dance practice proceeds without a hitch.  
  


* * *

  
  
He’s the first one to shower, which isn’t too strange and draws no inquiries from his exhausted team mates. What does pique their interest is what he’s wearing when he steps out of the bedroom and the low “going out” he throws over his shoulder.  
  
“Hyung,” Sanghyuk calls. “Where are you going?”  
  
“’The store,’” Jaehwan winks. “Look at the way he’s dressed.”  
  
Sanghyuk frowns, picking at an acne mark on his chin. “I don’t get it--”  
  
“Hyung has a date,” says Hongbin. “It’s the blazer. He always wears blazers on dates, maknae.”  
  
Taekwoon looks down at himself -- _wait, does he_ \-- and then looks at his members again. “So,” he clears his throat. No need to explain himself then. “Goodbye.”  
  
“Wait!” Hakyeon stands up from the couch and bounces over to him. He grabs Taekwoon by the shoulders and gives him a closer once over. “Did you brush your teeth? Do you have any mints? How about...” He trails off. “Hongbin, cover Hyukie’s ears.”  
  
“Wait, why--” Sanghyuk whines.  
  
“Okay,” says Hongbin and when Taekwoon looks, he’s pressing his palms onto Sanghyuk’s ears.  
  
Sanghyuk pouts at him, “Taekwoon hyung--”  
  
Leaning close, Hakyeon asks, “Do you have any _condoms?_ You know.” He winks. “Just in case.”  
  
“Get away from me,” Taekwoon gently shoves him away and brushes down the sleeves of his Man Date blazer.  
  
“I’m just looking out for you,” says Hakyeon. He’s still looking Taekwoon over. “What kind of shoes are you wearing? Please don’t say running shoes. Surely I’ve taught you better.”  
  
Over in the living room, Taekwoon hears the commotion continue. “I want to know what they’re saying,” Sanghyuk struggles in Hongbin’s grip.  
  
“You’ll know when you’re older,” Jaehwan says in his sing song voice and then goes back to typing at his phone.  
  
“How old do you want me to get?” asks Sanghyuk. “I’m already twenty.”  
  
“I’m already twenty,” says Jaehwan in his baby voice. “I’m not a b-baby anymore. I’m a real man. Real man!”  
  
Sanghyuk shoves Jaehwan, whining about how he doesn’t sound like that, and Hongbin laughs.  
  
Taekwoon takes this opportunity to reassure Hakyeon he’s not wearing running shoes, slips into nondescript black shoes, and says goodbye for a third time. Hakyeon physically lets him go, though he doesn’t stop shouting helpful advice through the door -- “Remember to check your breath before you kiss her! Don’t embarrass VIXX with a reputation of bad breath!” -- and he doesn’t stop until he knows Taekwoon is in the elevator.  
  
 _Whatever you do, don’t wipe your lips after she kisses you! Lick them off if the lipstick is bad and move on with your life!_ comes the first of Hakyeon’s helpful messages.  
  
 _Also, please remember to talk,_ says the second.  
  
 _Don’t forget to have fun! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Love, N mom_ reads the last message.  
  
The face freaks Taekwoon out a little so he doesn’t reply.  
  


* * *

  
_Yes_ , he types back after a few minutes. He knows Hakyeon has glued himself to his phone and won’t relax until he knows Taekwoon is alive and has heeded his advice.  
  
Hakyeon’s reply ten seconds later is of the same ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) face.  
  


* * *

  
  
Borrowing the manager’s car is never a problem. For good reasons, incredible reasons even, he trusts Taekwoon more than he probably should and the only question had been, “So. Who is it?” The manager had then promptly thrown his car keys at Taekwoon’s chest in surprise. “Sorry! But wow... really? Wow.” Then he looked Taekwoon over, as if trying to see something that wasn’t there. Luckily, he had already recovered from his awe in the time it took for Taekwoon picked up and pocket his keys. “I didn’t think you had it in you,” he said, smiling. He gave Taekwoon a one arm hug and a pat on the back -- and Taekwoon felt as if he had just been initiated into some kind of club --, told him to mind his 1AM curfew, and wished him luck on his “trip to the store.”  
  
Now, turning the car on, Taekwoon wonders when had become a euphemism.  
  
With his phone plugged into the car radio, he listens to Trey Songz on low to beat the pre-date jitters. There’s an Olympic gymnast doing 10/10 cartwheels in his empty stomach accompanied by the most dedicated percussionist in his chest. This isn’t the first of these meetings; it won’t be the last of them either.  
  
Sneaking out like this on a practice night isn’t ideal and there’s no telling how many paparazzi are hiding in dark alleys or in parked cars, waiting for unsuspecting idol fish to swim by so Dispatch can sick its fangs into the meat of their soft underbellies.  
  
It’s not Taekwoon’s fault the only things to watch on television at four in the morning are ocean documentaries and terribly overpriced infomercials.  
  
A few minutes later, he parks a couple of blocks down from her dorm and sends a short “I’m here” text. _“In front of the store.”_  
  
“ _Coming :)!_ ” is her reply.  
  
The drummer in his chest is working toward their final act. Remembering Hakyeon’s advice, Taekwoon pops a breath mint -- or five because his hand shakes and almost empties the entire container into his mouth -- and does his deep breathing exercises.  
  
This shouldn’t feel as though he’s about to go up on stage in front of hundreds, hundred thousands, a million people, but it does. It’s that same rush of nerves, the familiar “Can I do this? I can do this, right?” He wants to do this; he wouldn’t be here otherwise. He looks forward to these moments where they reach out to each other and, just for a few hours, remember they’re only people. They don’t have to be “on” all the time.  
  
Eyes glued to the rear view mirror, he thinks he sees her walking toward the car, bundled up in her long black pea coat. A black cap hides her hair. Objectively speaking, it could _not_ be her and Taekwoon has just become obsessed in watching a stranger, but there’s something about the person’s gait -- quick and nervous, and then slower and casual, as if not trying to arouse too much suspicion -- that tips him off.  
  
Seconds later, the person is opening the passenger side door of Taekwoon’s car and slipping inside.  
  
“Ugh,” Sojin says in a huff, taking off her cap. “It’s _so_ cold outside.” She shakes her hair with her fingers and Taekwoon catches a whiff of her vanilla shampoo. A little enamored by the new sandy color, Taekwoon is almost caught off guard when she leans across the center console and kisses the side of his mouth. “Hi.” Her breath brushes his lips.  
  
“Hi,” Taekwoon replies, smiling.  
  
  


* * *

  
_You’re a genius_ , Taekwoon texts Hakyeon.  
  
 _Obviously,_ replies Hakyeon. _Wait. Does this mean you need condoms after all? DON’T BUY ANY! STORES HAVE SECURITY CAMERAS. HOLD IT IN, JUNG LEO._  
  
Taekwoon turns his phone off.  
  


* * *

  
  
They buy coffee and drink it in the car, parked at the end of another street with the lights off. The heating is on, but Sojin says she’s still cold and even suggests they move to the back seat.  
  
“The heat’s going to be the same there,” says Taekwoon.  
  
Sojin smiles and giggles into her latte, “You’re cute, Taekwoonie.” He doesn’t get it until she slips out of her pea coat and oh. _Oh._  
  
Taekwoon almost burns his tongue on an ill timed sip. Oh. He drinks quickly and tries not to think of himself as a school boy who’s been slipped a love note by the class beauty queen.  
  


* * *

  
  
Empty coffee cups are kept on the console and Miguel is crooning softly in the background about a lost love. Sojin leans against him in the backseat, her head on his shoulder. His arm loops around her waist and it’s comfortable, but he’s still painfully aware of all the places their bodies are touching. Her waist, his shoulder, his head on her head if he leans a certain way. She’s in a long sweater, and the fabric soft and warm against his bare arm.  
  
“This is nice,” she whispers. Her head turns to look up at him. “Isn’t it?”  
  
Taekwoon smiles again, “It is.” His eyes drop to her lips. They’re sheer today: not pink or red or orange. Pink tastes like sugar, red is a bit tangier -- like a grapefruit -- and orange is the softest of them all, sweet as peaches. Sheer is a different kind of sweet -- not candy, more of the cream swirled on petite cupcakes. She sighs when he kisses her, and her smile dips into a low laugh when his tongue runs along her bottom lip.  
  
“Are you tasting me, Taekwoonie?” The sparkle in her eyes knocks Taekwoon breathless.  
  
He sputters for an excuse, “N-No, I was just--” Tongue tied and nervous, a school boy caught with his pants around his ankles. A flush starts in his ears and slowly moves down to his cheeks.  
  
Laughing again and moving off his chest so she can half lean into his lap, Sojin cups his face in her hands. “You’re so cute.” The following kiss is longer, harder. All tongues, hot breath, Sojin’s arms around his shoulders, Taekwoon’s hands on her hips.  
  
Taekwoon doesn’t breathe through any of it.  
  
He’s gasping for air when she pulls back and says, “How was that, Taekwoonie? How do I taste?”  
  
“Coffee,” he whispers. But underneath it all _cream._ Soft cream.  
  
“Not even a ‘good’?” Sojin smiles and then clears her throat. Her face is blank and she’s clearly biting the inside of her cheek. “’Coffee,’” she whispers, in a pretty accurate imitation of his voice.  
  
Taekwoon tries to hide his laughter into his fist but she cuts him off, pulling his hand away and placing it ever so gently back on her hips. “Noona,” she continues.  
  
“Noona.” Feeling like his mouth can’t possibly stretch into a bigger smile, Taekwoon taps his fingers along her hip and says, “N-Noona tastes good.” _Oh God._ He winces a little. _So bad._  
  
Sojin snorts, “That sounds so--” Shaking her head, she makes a small puking noise. “Nevermind. Forget I said that. Gross.” Her giggle is hitch pitched, embarrassed, and Taekwoon feels as if he’s been staked through the heart, vampire concept be damned.  
  
His throat wells with _I really like you_ but he holds it in, swallowing it down. From his eyes to the tips of his toes, he swears “I really like you” radiates like a floodlight throughout his entire body. It’s so obvious he’s having trouble catching his breath -- he feels it so hard his hands are shaking, he so ready to sat it -- but then she kisses him again.  
  
 _I really like you_ slips up into their kiss and Taekwoon hopes Sojin feels it as much as he does, as much as he’s always felt it, right from their first “Now” dance practice. It’s terrifying, akin to the moment right before taking the stage, but also wonderful and thrilling.  
  
He’s standing on a stage right now, sweating under massive arena lights. Instead of a roaring audience, there’s only Sojin standing in the middle of the stage. She beckons him from the microphone and he joins her in on their verse, tucking their hands together.  
  


* * *

  
  
Saying goodbye is done quickly, like ripping off a bandage. In the beginning, they had lingered, finding excuses to talk more than they needed to, craving more touch, but they’ve learned. Acting like that only makes leaving harder and it doesn’t _need_ to be any harder than it is.  
  
Taekwoon is VIXX -- VIXX is in him so deeply he’s sure the doctors can see ROVIX during all of his blood tests -- but the moment right before Sojin opens the door always, _always_ , forces him to imagine another life. Then he’s overcome with disgust at his ungratefulness, at how he can casually think of a life without _any_ of this, that he almost misses the little “bye Taekwoonie” before the door closes.  
  
Then he’s alone.  
  
With his thoughts.  
  
When he would rather be alone with Sojin and her thoughts.  
  


* * *

  
  
He drops the manager’s keys on the side of his nightstand and is about to go to the kitchen for a quick drink of water when he bumps into sleepy Sanghyuk.  
  
“Sleep,” Taekwoon grunts.  
  
Sanghyuk follows him into the kitchen, “Hyung, did you really have a date tonight? With who?”  
  
Without turning his head from the fridge, Taekwoon says, “Mind your business, maknae.” He expects that to be it.  
  
But turning twenty has made Sanghyuk a little more curious and braver than he would have been this time last year. He’s rooted against the table when Taekwoon turns around. “How can you stand it?” he asks. “Don’t you miss her? Does her manager know too? Are you...?”  
  
Arching a brow, Taekwoon reaches for a cup. “Am I?”  
  
Sanghyuk averts his eyes and scratches the back of his neck. “Are you... you know... in love with her?”  
  
Taekwoon takes his time drinking his water. Over the rim of his cup, he observes Sanghyuk carefully and notices he doesn’t flinch away as he used to, not even when Taekwoon narrows his eyes. After rinsing his cup out and placing it back on the drying rack, Taekwoon turns to lean against the sink, arms crossed.  
  
Sanghyuk beats him in their impromptu staring contest by a few seconds. He’s quietly whooping and celebrating with a “raise the roof” dance move when Taekwoon says, “I think so.”  
  
Sanghyuk freezes, “Wait you... what?”  
  
“Goodnight, Sanghyuk,” Taekwoon waves as he walks away.  
  
“Wait, hyung--” Sanghyuk grabs Taekwoon by his wrist.  
  
Quite unamused, Taekwoon looks from his wrist to Sanghyuk; Sanghyuk drops his hand and, laughing a little, steps back. “I’m sorry, I was really... surprised. I didn’t expect hyung to be honest with me. You must really like her then.”  
  
Taekwoon is quiet, and then, “Goodnight.” He nods to Sanghyuk and quickly pulls himself away before he started unloading more unnecessary baggage onto Sanghyuk.  
  
“Aw hyung,” he hears Sanghyuk say, all cute and especially loving.  
  
Taekwoon can’t pretend to be asleep in his futon fast enough.  
  



End file.
